A Special Day for the Birthday Girl

Kenneth Sibbett

perspectives
writings - story

October 2012

The old woman, who was the first baby born in her hometown on New Year's Day, had always thought this day was special. Not in egotistical way. Not at all. She thought it was fate, or Karma to be the first baby born at 12:01 a.m. on the first day of the New Year. Her parents were also very proud of her date of birth and loved her very much. She was their special baby girl. An only child, she was always given lots of Christmas presents, but it was New Year's Day shelved for, for this was her "Special Day" her father and mother told her.

After the New Year's Day Parade, they would shoot-off fireworks over the lake and everyone would sing "Happy Birthday" to her. She would laugh, smile and blush as she opened more presents in front of her parents and friends. Her father would always give her a salute, and a wink. The old woman smiles at the thought. She loves thinking about her parents and how much they loved her, and this country. Her family were very patriotic and also never missed the 4th of July fireworks. It was almost as though she had two birthdays.

She was voted most popular in high school and married the boy who was also most popular. They were very happy for the few months they were together. When her husband received his draft notice, it seemed as if the honeymoon was barely over before two soldiers came to the door and told her that her husband was missing and presumed dead. She was eight months pregnant at the time and the two kind soldiers had to help her sit down. They then left her alone. All alone. The silence of the house almost drove her insane. She never re-married.

Her precious daughter, born a month later, was only three when she was stricken with a rare form of cancer that was virtually untreatable. Within a matter of weeks, one day less than a month, her beloved daughter passed away. She had no more children. She worked as a waitress in a Denny's Restaurant for 18 years until it closed and left her unemployed. Not able to find a job, she collected her unemployment insurance until it ran out. She was then on welfare and food stamps, but after two years the state cut off all benefits. She was now homeless, alone, and very afraid.

The first night she slept outdoors, she was 43 years old. She awakened to find a thief had stolen all her possessions. Her last $20, but far worse, her pocketbook with the only pictures left of her beloved husband and daughter. A week later, she was raped for the first time. Taken to the hospital, the detectives, after learning she was homeless put her case on the back-burner. They were far too busy to waste time on a case where the woman probably brought it on herself by sleeping around outdoors. The idea of a Catch-22, of sorts, never crossed their minds. They were, after all, detectives.

She is now 72, but feel's ninety. When the do-gooders come and try and help her find a place to live, she hides. She is now at home, being homeless. The idea of sleeping in a warm house scares her. What if it caught fire, she would not want to die like that. She likes her little space in the alley. This was her space and no one could harm her, not in her space. She plundered now through the very garbage bins she used to put garbage in when she worked at Denny's, so many, many, years ago. It is now Bob's Burger Joint and when they throw out leftovers every night after midnight, she eats well, if the men do not beat her to it.

She is still very proud, and at the end of every year on New Year's Day, the excitement builds. This is still her special day. When the city has their annual New Year's Day Parade, she stands and watches as the bands march by and play patriotic music. The beautiful people on the beautiful floats throw candy. She never fails to grabs a few pieces for later. Someone usually discards one of the small plastic American Flags, which she picks it up and waves to the beat of the band. At night, the fireworks are shot high into the darkened sky and the rockets explode into big, beautiful, bright colors and light up the world.

But it is the end, the very end of the show, that she so eagerly awaits. It is then that she is given her 'special birthday present' again. Every year, without fail, the very last rockets exploding into the sky are Red, White, and Blue, the most beautiful colors in the world to the old woman. They are shot higher than the others and it seems that our flag, our American flag, is suspended in time for an eternity over the lake. The old woman, who was born on New Year's Day, cries, but not out of sadness, but pride. As the colors fall and slowly mix together, the American flag becomes a myriad of colors and the old woman, without fail, just as her father had done all those years ago on her "Special Day", salutes. She always salutes the American Flag with a lump in her throat, and a tear in her eye.

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©2012 Kenneth Sibbett
©2012 Publication Scene4 Magazine

Kenneth Sibbett is a writer and author of a new novel, A Killer of Angels.

 

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October 2012

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